Wheels Within Wheels – Part Three
Iolanthe
Chapter Fifty-Four
Daphne's Apprentices
Iolanthe and the rest of the Potters joined Tracey and Zelda at the Black estate in Cornwall a week before Black Picnic. James was occupied with gardening from sunup until around ten in the morning. Everyone thought the house and grounds were perfect except James, who continually found a little more pruning that needed to be done or a bed needing additional plants or thinning of what was already there.
On the twenty-fifth of June, James received a letter by owl post, just around the time he was knocking off work until late afternoon. He stood in the shade of the arbor and opened the envelope. Something in his face said to Iolanthe that James might need some unconditional support when he finished reading.
"Problem?" Iolanthe asked. James handed her the folded parchment.
"James," Iolanthe read, "Thank-you for thinking of me. I asked Mum if I got an invitation from your mother if I could come, but it seems I am needed here. Please don't bother Daphne because it would not make any difference.
I won't be writing for two or three weeks because I will be out fishing.
Miss you,
Moira"
"Oh, James, I'm so sorry," Iolanthe said. "It would have been fun to have her at the picnic. Well, future parties."
"I guess," James said, "If we're still friends."
"You got as far as discussing summer plans?" Iolanthe asked.
"Well…yeah," James said. "It wasn't discussing, really, it just came up. Talking."
"Uh-huh," said Iolanthe. "Understand, James, I'm not one speaking from an abundance of personal knowledge about romance, but I am an observer by necessity. Still, I would put money on you and Moira being friends long enough to throw a party one of these days."
"You sound confident," James said.
"You're not?" asked Iolanthe.
"She's…" James tried to answer but got no further.
"Special? Beautiful? Smart?" suggested Iolanthe.
"Stop, you're embarrassing me!" James demanded. Both of them started to laugh.
"What's so funny?" asked Daphne as she came down the rear steps to the garden.
Iolanthe stood there and held her tongue. If James wanted to share, he'd share. Otherwise, Daphne wouldn't get it out of Iolanthe. James held out his hand for his parchment. Iolanthe gave it to him, and James handed it straight on to Daphne.
"See for yourself," he said.
"It was nice of you to think of Moira, James, but it seems she has family obligations," Daphne said after she'd read the note. "We know about those, don't we?"
Iolanthe and James nodded Yes.
"Yes, Mum," added James. He didn't indicate that made him feel all that much better.
"I thought, Black Picnic and everything. Maybe for the day. If her mum said yes maybe you'd send her an invitation."
"Well, of course I would have, James, but we aren't going to stick our noses into another family's business," Daphne said. "If Moira's needed at home, that's that, and I suggest you return a note by owl thanking her for asking, ask Moira to thank her mother for her consideration, and sign off with 'Another time perhaps.'"
James reached out for the parchment.
"Wish her a safe trip," Iolanthe advised. Daphne looked at Iolanthe, a little curling-up showing at the corners of her mouth.
"That's a wonderful suggestion, Iolanthe," Daphne said. "I should have thought of that myself. Where have my manners gone?"
Daphne went back to her rounds, checklists and consultations with Tracey.
"Got your bag?" James asked. "I'd like to borrow a piece of parchment."
Black Picnic was planned for June thirtieth, Scorpius' birthday. Draco and Scorpius were to arrive sometime on the twenty-eighth and stay until the end of the festivities. Tracey was very efficient. This being her umpteenth iteration of Black Picnic Tracey and her trusted elf associates' logistics for the day drew mainly on the market stalls of the nearby village. That left everyone else free to enjoy the house and gardens of the Black estate, rambles around the neighborhood lanes, and long conversations in shady places with plenty of iced tea and lemonade.
Cornwall got a nice rain overnight of the twenty-ninth to thirtieth, clearing the air and giving the countryside a good wash. Scorpius wasn't much of a gardener but he joined James in walking the grounds looking for anything they could find that didn't meet standards. It was fidgeting, more than anything, although an activity James found both pleasant and distracting.
Scorpius was escaping from the house and the flood of congratulations from the portraits on the publishing and excellent sales of his book of Brother Glott's tales of Merlin. Professor Binns had done his work, relating to Phineas Nigellas a long, overdone tale of Scorpius' work ethic, research skills, original insights and not least, the ecstatic reviews in all the better magical scholarly periodicals.
Ironically, most of Binns' reports had a sound basis, it was the excess that Scorpius found embarrassing. The portraits didn't care. They hadn't had a young Black wizard of Scorpius' quality around for decades. They saw it as a family obligation to convey their appreciation. Scorpius took it as long as he could. He was naturally gracious and considerate. Finally, he excused himself and resolved to keep James company for the rest of the day.
It was inevitable that Scorpius would get around to, "How's Moira?"
"Great," said James. "She's gone fishing."
"I'm impressed," Scorpius said.
James pondered Scorpius' comment for some time.
"Why?" he asked.
"She can do something practical, like you," Scorpius said. "Like Teddy, and Grandfather Fabio and Grandfather Lucius. Daphne. Lots of witches and wizards can't."
"I guess so," James said, pausing in his unnecessary weeding, "Never really thought about it that way."
"Do you like her?" asked Scorpius. "If you don't mind my asking."
"I've been advised…" James began before pausing, then starting again, "I've been advised we have a long time before it would be appropriate to speak in those terms."
"Were you really?" asked Scorpius. "'A long time before it would be appropriate to speak in those terms?' Let me say, then, welcome to the club."
"Oh," James said, "Which one advised you? Ron, Hermione, your dad?"
"None of them," Scorpius answered. He tried not to laugh but did anyway.
"Rose?"
"Of course," said Scorpius. "She's right. To be honest, none of the others could speak with Rose's authority. Besides that, she forces me think in the long term. If we want to have happy, satisfying lives together, we'll each want to do something the other can respect. That means study now, put some of the other stuff off until later. It will all look different in four or five years."
"Rose came up with that? That's brilliant," James said, admiring the logic. "I understand you're well on your way to becoming a historian. Will you be Professor Binns' successor?"
Scorpius turned quite red in the face.
"Unlikely. Binns likes what he's doing too much."
"So you and Rose talked it all over?" James wanted to know. "The future, making a living…?"
"Once," said Scorpius. "Just one time. We walked back to the castle from a very boring quidditch match and kept going, walking along the lakeshore. I wondered if I had the courage to tell her I loved her, and Rose saved me from botching it up by saying she knew I liked her, and she liked me, but we weren't going further until we could at least see independence ahead. I did get her to promise me she would tell me if her feelings changed, and I promised to do the same. That's how we left it. That's how it is today."
"Wow," James said. "That is a very good arrangement. Well done."
"It was all Rose," said Scorpius.
"Maybe," replied James, "But I don't think so. She sensed you needed to say something and got there first. You both had to contribute. You're both wise."
"That's quite a compliment, thanks," Scorpius said. "Go ahead and use it if you think it applies."
"I don't know," James said as he bent over to pull up some grasses that were encroaching on one of his beds. "Moira is kind of direct. If she has something to say, she says it. I guess it will be September before I see her again. It wouldn't be right to put that in a letter."
"No, probably not," Scorpius said, "Although, she might like to hear something now and then. A post card. 'Sun's shining in Cornwall.' That's all."
James broke off his gardening.
"I think I'll do that," James said. "Thanks. What are your plans?"
"Fifth year," said Scorpius. "Lots of history. Professor Binns and I have talked about a couple of independent study projects. Defense. Professor Bulstrode makes me feel like a wizard. Rose and Iolanthe will be their usual selves. Rose is talking about going into magical law. We'll stay busy. What does Moira like, besides herbology?"
"Runes," said James.
"Oh, then there are a couple of witches you know with whom she should spend some more time," observed Scorpius.
"True," said James. "Two more reasons for her to be interested in me. I'll have to mention it to Grandmother. Moira might have left without making the connection. Things were a bit chaotic at Samhain."
They came to 'Lady Black's Garden,' a private little half-acre of brick walkways, patios and conventional garden beds surrounded by a stone knee wall and screened by cypress trees. Teddy and James had laid it out and developed it over the past couple of years. James opened the iron gate and led Scorpius in.
"Thought I heard something over here," he said, and was met by some aggressive growls by two young lynx. The mother lynx who was watching them gave a growl of her own.
"Careful," said Iolanthe from her spot on a steel glider.
"Let's see," James said, kneeling down. The two lynx came running on the brick walkway that bisected the garden, then stood on their hind legs with their forepaws on James' shoulders. James reached up and scratched behind an ear on each of the young Toms.
The lynx lay down on their bellies, one next to each of James' legs. James continued scratching ears. They looked at their mother and growled, tails twitching the whole time. They bolted at some secret signal and charged, leaping onto her, only to be swatted and sent rolling across the path. They changed tactics, one keeping her occupied from the front while the other pounced on the mother lynx' twitching tail over and over again.
"So, zookeeper," Scorpius said, addressing Iolanthe.
"I saw you over there conspiring, Scorpius Malfoy, don't think I didn't," said Iolanthe.
"You've met my cousin?" Scorpius asked. "He's a magical landscaper, very accomplished. He's a scintillating conversationalist. Too bad our talks are all off the record, or I'd share."
Iolanthe had been stretched out on the glider but she drew her legs up, twisted a bit and made room for Scorpius and James. The young men sat down, their feet and legs finding the rhythm. The swinging became very regular.
"Oh, mmmm…" Iolanthe said. "Not too fast, right there!"
James and Scorpius settled into trying to keep Iolanthe happy with the pace and altitude of their swinging.
"Happy Birthday, Scorpius!" said Iolanthe. "I almost forgot."
"Yeah, Happy Birthday," James said. "I DID forget."
Scorpius hadn't finished his thank-you's when Tracey opened the gate.
"Are they going to do the picnic like that?" she asked, waving at the three lynx.
"She didn't say," said Iolanthe. "Maybe they will, maybe they won't."
Everyone watched as Daphne transformed back to human.
"A girl can't have any fun around here," she observed. The young Toms tried chasing each other but not for long. They too transformed and stood still, collecting their thoughts or awaiting attention from the bigs who were smiling at them in adoration.
"It really is time to get ready, if anyone wants to change," Tracey said.
James picked up Evans and Davis and waited at the gate for someone with a free hand to open it up.
Once again Harry opened the picnic with a welcome then turned things over to Teddy. Notable events and achievements since Black Christmas included two weddings involving Black cousins, Harry's retirement and Scorpius' birthday. Scorpius accepted the birthday greetings and thanked everyone for coming. Then he thanked all the family members who had purchased his book, which he knew must have happened because the sales numbers were so high. Then he asked everyone to join him in thanking Harry for his work in keeping the Black family together and promoting its interests. With that, Scorpius declared Black Picnic underway.
Harry sat with Andromeda and Narcissa for much of the picnic. The concentration of Black seniority brought everyone to their shady haven. Victoire stationed herself close to Andromeda but she was happy to fetch a freshened drink or run an errand for any of the three. Rose tried doing the same for Narcissa. Scorpius' grandmother saw herself as having final approval rights for Draco and Scorpius' major life decisions, in the absence of Astoria. She kept her own counsel regarding Rose, while acknowledging to herself that Rose was demonstrating she was solid granddaughter-in-law material. Narcissa let Rose stay around as long as it looked like Rose was enjoying herself. When Rose began to show signs of needing a little Iolanthe time, Narcissa reached out and took her hand.
"Go find Iolanthe, dear," she said, "You need a break from all this old lady talk."
Rose would have kissed Narcissa on the cheek but she hadn't been invited and didn't want to take liberties. Instead she squeezed her hand and smiled.
"I'll check in later," she said, "In case you need anything."
James, Iolanthe, Zelda and Scorpius were standing clumped together holding plates of picnic food when Zelda announced, "We need to get some of this to Great-Grandmother."
Everyone thought that a capital idea. Iolanthe was detailed to ask Daphne to work out the details at Davis Manor. James and Scorpius put some food together for traveling. Zelda went to consult with Tracey. Rose and Lissette were soon conscripted, partly for inclusion and partly for unforeseen contingencies. Those had a way of appearing without warning in the midst of magical events.
Tracey agreed to accompany the children to Davis Manor so that Daphne and Harry could remain with their guests at Black Picnic. Transport was accomplished without incident, everyone taking the floo to Great-Grandmother's salon. The old lady was lucid throughout the hour the travelers spent with her. She remembered names and Scorpius' birthday. She found the grilled fish from that morning's catch particularly noteworthy.
Tracey noticed the small table beside Mrs. Davis' wing chair had been replaced by a larger model, one that now accommodated both Zelda's quidditch record certificate and a copy of Scorpius' book of Brother Glott's Merlin tales. Mrs. Davis even demonstrated some knowledge of the contents, asking Scorpius to flesh out one or two points where she thought Glott diverged from convention or hadn't cited particularly strong evidence. Scorpius opened the volume and saw it hadn't been signed, so he found a quill and a bottle of ink and inscribed a fairly florid greeting to Mrs. Davis.
Delighted as she was by the visit of her great-grandchildren, Mrs. Davis made no objection to Tracey's observation that it was time to get everyone back to Black Picnic. Rose and Lissette made their farewells, followed by Scorpius, James, Zelda and Iolanthe. Mrs. Davis cried, of course, as the four stood and knelt around her, kissing the top of her head or a hand, telling her how much they loved her and promising a return visit soon.
The conversation must have been exceptional that year because about half of the guests were still at the Black estate when the travelers returned. With the lower sun and thinned-out grounds, groups sorted themselves out by various affinities, drank beverages across the range from abstemious to near-death strength, nibbled at extra helpings from the buffet, and polished good feelings among the Blacks.
It was near sundown when the last visitors left. Farewells were evolving. More and more witches wanted to hug Daphne, then bring her right hand to their lips and kiss her signet. Some had begun calling her Mother when they took their leave.
"With your permission, Mother," they'd say.
"Thank you for everything, Mother. When will you visit us in Ireland (or Scotland, or Jersey or Cherbourg)?"
Daphne smiled, kissed all the departing children on their heads or cheeks, and promised a visit soon.
The Potters departed the following morning, leaving Tracey and Zelda behind to work with the elves to put the house back in order. Daphne had to visit her patients. While at the hospital, she confirmed Kendra would be at home in the afternoon and went to Greengrass Manor direct from St. Mungo's.
"What does the rest of your day look like?" asked Daphne after she'd kissed Kendra's cheek, scooped up Raffles and accepted an offer of tea.
"Quiet," Kendra said, "Anything special on your mind?"
"I haven't had lunch," Daphne said. "They've probably all eaten at home, so I thought I'd see if I could find some company."
"Oh," Kendra said. "Certainly. Here or there?"
"We should go there," Daphne said. "Tracey is probably still in Cornwall and I don't know how energetic Harry is going to be today. He still tires so easily."
"Sure," said Kendra. "I'm always ready to join the Potter-Blacks for lunch. Fabio is in Torshavn for a few hours. Want a traveler for that tea?"
"Nope," said Daphne, tipping the cup up and drinking off about half.
"Coming, Raffles?" she asked as she put the cup on the table.
Daphne and Kendra walked out of the fireplace in the salon at Potter Manor and spotted Harry stretched out on the couch. They tried being careful, without result.
"Wah?" Harry said as he sat up.
"Sorry, milord," said Daphne. She put Raffles down so he could join his lordship. "Children?"
"Iolanthe and Lissette have the twins, just where I don't know," said Harry as he lifted Raffles up. "James is in his Exquisite Conservatory. Teddy was rumored to be coming…"
The fireplace flashed green and gave a noisy 'WHOOSH.' Victoire stepped out followed by Teddy.
"Merlin!" Harry exclaimed. "You gave me a start."
Victoire, Kendra and Daphne switched to French, everyone enjoying a round of "Bonjours, Bienvenue and comme ca?"
"How's it going, Harry?" asked Teddy. He tried not to be obvious as he looked Harry over, trying to find signs of continuing recovery.
"Lots better, but still no stamina," Harry said. "It's not that bad. Not like it was at the beginning."
The witches excused themselves and took off up the stairs to search for twins. Teddy said he was expected at The Exquisite so Harry joined him for the walk.
Daphne and Kendra eventually gravitated to the patio for Daphne's late lunch. Kendra accepted an offer of a salad and tea, managing the pot for the two of them.
"Your grandmother owled this morning," Kendra said. "Her great-grands are the best ever. I should have shown you her note. Zelda is first among equals, it seems."
"Of course, they have some special magical empathy," said Daphne. "What a change."
"Mother knows it, too," Kendra said. "She was so negative before Zelda was born. What you and Harry did means a great deal to Tracey, if you didn't already know."
"Tracey tells me from time to time," Daphne said. "I tell her she'd have done the same for me. Which I believe she would have."
Daphne let her comments lapse. Kendra leaned back in her chair and looked down the long slope to the tree line that marked the path of the Dart.
"It's none of my business but I am so glad Harry built the house back on the old site," Kendra said. "I remember sitting here with Fabio and James and Lily."
Daphne understood Kendra meant she'd had good times on the old patio. The best of companions, two of the three now gone.
"It's our favorite place," Daphne said, then, "Well, not counting The Mill. The three of us sit here and talk and watch the shadows get long, and before you know it they're all out here with us. Millicent and Ginny, too, if they're in residence. Long row of patio chairs lined up like this."
She drew a line with her forefinger.
"Have the Potter-Blacks stabilized, for now?" Kendra asked.
Daphne thought that had a funny sound and had to take a moment before answering.
"Experience shows the roster has a way of expanding," she said. "Speaking of which, what can you tell me about being Mother to a bunch of witches? I got some 'Thank-you, Mother,' at Samhain. I just thought it was a kind of honorific for leading the ritual, but it showed up again at the picnic yesterday. Witches coming to say good-bye, and it was, 'Thank-you Mother' and 'When will you visit us, Mother?'"
"Get used to it," said Kendra. "Be gracious."
"Ah, I'm serious, Mother," Daphne said.
"I wasn't being flip," said Kendra. "You are a grandee's consort. Your husband is the head of two noble houses. He has some very old family seats, a pureblood witch for a wife and another that could be seen as something more…"
"ACH!" said Daphne. "That again."
"…Something more than a family friend," Kendra continued. "He has four magical children, two of whom are now at Hogwarts, learning to handle their deep reserves of magic. Your daughter talks to dragons, sweetheart. Imagine what you look like to a witch or wizard working in a shop or office, fully occupied with earning a living and raising the children.
"You've started to wear your Black signet," stated Kendra. "How did that happen?"
"The late headmaster advised Harry to start wearing his. Harry said he treated the Black signet with caution because he suspected it might be cursed," Daphne said. "Phineas Nigellas told him he could master the ring. Harry told me Phineas Nigellas did not say the ring wasn't cursed. Harry got the Black signet from the vault and put it on. He didn't topple over dead or anything. When I noticed he was wearing it he told me the story.
"We left Tracey in charge and I took Harry to my study. I'd found this, in a little drawer in my desk, on the day he brought me back to Grimmauld Place as Lady Potter-Black. I still don't know if it materialized for me or if I'd just overlooked it before. I handed it to him and advised him I was Lord Black's, if it pleased him to claim me. It did, and he held my hand and put the ring on my finger."
Daphne held out her hands and wiggled her fingers and thumbs. She hoped everyone liked the way they looked with her engagement and wedding rings on the left and Lady Black's signet on the right. She liked them.
"Whoo," Kendra said, keeping her voice down. "Daphne, that is some hot stuff, even for a pureblood witch. Do you mind telling me what it felt like when Harry put the ring on?"
"Indescribable," said Daphne. "For both of us, I think. I told him I was his, body, soul and wand. I don't have any idea where that came from. I'm a professional woman, Mother! Still it felt really good to say it. Anyway, the late headmaster was correct, Harry stood up to a killing curse from a very skilled wizard, just stood there and took it. Who else does that? How old are the lineages behind those two rings, anyway?"
"A thousand years, at least," Kendra said. "According to the old ways, the really, really ancient beliefs, you do belong to him. You gave yourself when you willingly accepted the ring of Lord Black's consort. Did it feel like you were in the middle of some powerful magic while this was going on?"
"Mother, it was like being rolled by the surf or knocked down by a wind gust, that feeling of powerlessness," Daphne said. "We came home and went straight upstairs. I should probably stop there."
"Whatever you're comfortable with," said Kendra, more to fill in the conversational gap than anything. They took a break while awaiting the return of calm.
"Walburga called him a Black warlord," Daphne went on. "She advised him to take the fight to Lestrange, quarter neither asked nor given. Turned out they didn't go at it long enough to need one."
"Oh, I expect she was in full battle mode," Kendra said. "Seriously, though, if you two get into a scrap with someone I'd advise you to be very careful. You might find there are new sensations you weren't expecting. The Blacks were not a family to trifle with, not by anyone in their right mind, and for good reason. You'd be wise to feel your way through the new magic a little at a time. No one learns this at Hogwarts.
"Now, you're the consort of a clan chief," said Kendra. "In the old days, Mother was a fairly common honorific for a witch in your position, not that there were ever more than three or four at a time. Your people haven't had someone like you for many, many years."
"Some of them will be expecting visits," Daphne said. "Yesterday a few witches asked when I would come to see them, so I said, 'Soon.'"
"Then you have to go," said Kendra. "They're loyal. Reward them. Grace them with your presence. Kiss a baby when offered the opportunity. Think of it this way: you're the witches' member of the chief's household. You're Harry's, although not exclusively. You also belong to them in a way. If the time comes when someone has to speak up for the witches and children, you speak. He'll listen."
Daphne lapsed into silence, looking down toward the Dart. Her mother had just confirmed what she had been suspecting. Harry Potter had upended her world once again, dumping a great load of new demands on her. Well, she was a witch, wasn't she? Learning was what she did. She'd just have to be careful using what she'd be learning, because it was clearly some powerful magic.
Daphne would have preferred to have Harry, the children and her patients as her only responsibilities that summer, but she took Kendra's advice to heart. Lissette returned to l'Anse des Sorciers prior to taking up studies for her mastery in healing. Daphne and Iolanthe traveled with her to pay a call on Caroline.
They stopped once on the way home, drank a little tea and used their excellent French with some Black cousins in a beautiful Norman cottage. Their visit included reciprocal toasts with thimble-sized glasses of calvados. Daphne watched Iolanthe as surreptitiously as she could manage. Iolanthe, no stranger to self-discipline, lived an abstemious life and didn't plan to change. She accepted the calvados, raised her glass at the appropriate time, and smiled in appreciation.
"What did you learn?" Daphne asked when they got back to Devon.
"The family sends their witches and wizards to Beauxbatons," said Iolanthe, "Which isn't much of a surprise. The calvados is local. Duke William stayed with an ancestor in the cottage we were just at on his way to invade England. We're related through Father who is a third cousin or thereabouts to Madame, but they're actually closer to you and me through a marriage with a Davis."
"Yes, your great-grandmother's brother. He married Madame's grandmother and after that pretty much stayed in France and raised his family," Daphne said. "I'd heard about him but no one made an effort to keep the family ties strong. It's a good thing your father reached out to all the Black branches or we'd have lost touch completely. I'm going to have to report to your Grandmother Kendra that we've officially re-established contact."
"It was nice of you to call on them, Mother," Iolanthe said. "I really enjoyed today. Lissette seems at home in l'Anse."
"She does, doesn't she?" asked Daphne. "Like she was born to the role."
"Long Live Caroline!" Iolanthe said. "Otherwise Lissette won't get her Mastery. I know that means a lot to her. She didn't have very good prospects until you and Madame Pomfrey gave her a chance."
"Don't leave yourself out of the picture," said Daphne. "You brought Lissette into our household. You got her away from those horrid people. You started it all."
"Maybe," Iolanthe replied, "But the fairies say she's a sprite. She just transforms in water. There may be something very old and deep working there. Have you ever felt like you were an instrument of something? Something bigger and older and stronger than magic?"
"That's a pretty common feeling, believe it or not," said Healer Daphne. "It's not wrong or dangerous, just try not to dwell on it, if you don't mind a little motherly advice. That way lies madness. Wizards and muggles both can do very bad things because they think they're being directed by God or The Greater Good or some other kind of higher knowledge or power. When that thinking takes over and displaces an individual's perspective on right and wrong, creatures like Gellert Grindelwald are the result."
"You'll tell me before I transform completely into a Gellert Grindelwald, won't you Mother?" asked Iolanthe.
"I promise," said Daphne, "And I have backup right there at home in case you don't take it well from me."
"Father."
"Yes," Daphne said, "And Tracey. My classmate Millicent Bulstrode. James Greengrass Potter…"
"Point taken," said Iolanthe.
Daphne's summer calendar filled up quickly after that. When she was finished scheduling time with her inpatients at St. Mungo's, consultations with and observation of Harry, mothering the twins and her Wednesday afternoon at #12 Grimmauld Place, she looked for an opportunity to pay a call on a Black witch.
Daphne enlisted Tracey and the two of them pored over recent invitation lists for Black family events. By late August, Daphne had managed to work in an average of two short courtesy calls per week with Black witches. She blessed numerous babies, sat for group photos and left a small token of remembrance with the families. Tracey had the idea for the design—a gold demitasse spoon with the Potter and Black arms, back to back, at the end of the handle. Iolanthe drew the design and Daphne ordered a supply from Anthony Goldstein's goblin associates.
There was one exception to the Black courtesy calls. Daphne owled Agnes Turley and asked, if Moira were to be around, if it might be convenient for Daphne to pay the Turleys a visit. She had two witches she could bring who Moira might like to meet.
Agnes owled back immediately. Daphne was welcome any time, Agnes said. She wondered what the two witches would be bringing.
"Runes," Daphne owled back. "Mother is a rune-witch. I've heard Moira likes to work with runes."
"Fine," Agnes wrote. "Let me know when you're coming so I can make sure Moira is at home and not out on the boat."
Daphne, Kendra and Hermione found a few unscheduled hours one August afternoon and made the trip to the Isle of St. Magnus. Agnes Turley welcomed them into a spotless stone house that sat on a level spot that looked high and dry but still had a beautiful view of the harbor, the boats, and the passage out to the open sea.
Agnes had one pot of tea ready, which she gave to the rune-witches and Moira, and made a second for herself and Daphne. Daphne didn't plan on splitting the party in two, but Agnes confessed she had no interest in the casting of runes, not wanting to know if her husband or any other relatives were slated for death or serious injury. Daphne thought that might be rooted in the awful price the sea people paid for their lives of freedom on the water.
Moira, on the other hand, was quite taken with runes. She knew of Kendra and Hermione from the Samhain but hadn't thought they would be coming all the way to St. Magnus to pay a call on her. Nor was she aware of the network of rune-witches over which Kendra and Hermione presided. Kendra and Hermione sat at the kitchen table with Moira and watched as she laid out her rune-stones and related what she believed they were telling her.
"Well, I'm impressed, Moira," said Kendra at one point, looking toward Hermione.
"Me too," Hermione said. "Would you be interested in getting a newsletter from us?"
Moira was hooked. She'd been recruited by Kendra Greengrass and Hermione Granger-Weasley. She looked at the other end of the room where her mother was sitting with Daphne.
"Of course, now what do you say?" asked Agnes.
"YES!" Moira said, "And thank-you."
Daphne thought at one point that she had ruined relations between the Turleys and Potters forever, but Agnes turned out to be a natural diplomat and things were repaired without permanent damage.
Daphne brought along a half-bottle of the Normandy calvados as a hostess gift and offered it to Agnes.
"Tchk," Agnes said, her face set in frozen neutrality. "Lady Daphne, we don't, in our household, you see…"
"Alcohol?" Daphne asked.
Agnes nodded.
"With the men and boats, drinking does not help them come home alive," she said. "So many tragedies in the isles. We've abstained in our family for generations."
"Oh, Agnes, forgive me," Daphne said, obviously distressed at her own gaffe. "I didn't ask first. I'm so sorry."
"Lady Daphne, there's…"
"Just Daphne is fine, Agnes," Daphne said. "I don't feel very noble at the moment."
"Alright, Daphne," said Agnes, "There's nothing to forgive. It's a lovely gift. We're both just learning about one another. Want to go look around? You've come all this way."
Agnes took Daphne in hand, leaving Moira to her newfound mentors. The house didn't have a large footprint so the rooms were compact. Someone had had a good eye for space. There were shelves, closets and bins built into corners and window benches. The white walls contrasted with the dark wood of beams and door frames. Daphne felt at home immediately, as if she were walking through The Mill.
Outdoors was just as impressive. Agnes led the way to an outcrop with a view around the entire island and the sea beyond.
"I don't want to live anywhere else," Agnes said when Daphne gushed a bit over the surroundings.
"Moira, on the other hand, is, I think, going to need a little more of what the wider world can offer. I don't see her meeting all of her requirements on St. Magnus. She's smart and capable. She picked up everything I showed her immediately, from a very young age. Her father takes her fishing. She isn't a tourist, there's no room for that. She works like the rest of the crew. I resisted as long as I could but there is something driving her. They teamed up and finally wore me down," Agnes said.
"Daphne, Moira is a very bright witch, but she is a rustic," Agnes continued. "When we got her owl and she told us she was Zelda's study partner, we didn't know what to think. What could she have in common with Tracey Davis' daughter? Yes, out here on St. Magnus we read about Tracey Davis. Then James started helping her in herbology."
Agnes didn't go on, but reached around Daphne's waist and held on. Daphne left Agnes to her thoughts, knowing silence was sometimes the best response to distress in others.
"I was afraid we'd lost her to London and manor house life," Agnes went on. "So soon. It may be inevitable, but I'd like to keep her a few more years."
Daphne took that as her cue.
"Are you still concerned?" Daphne asked. "You didn't have to let me invite myself over."
Agnes laughed at Daphne's observation.
"Well put," Agnes said. "I've adjusted. Moira hasn't asked to go anywhere all summer. Maybe she's still fine with the island, for now at least.
"No, I'm not concerned," Agnes continued. "After Samhain, and how you and your family handled everything, and meeting James, I'm not concerned. Moira understands a lot and has a good grasp of magic for her age. She's no experience with the outside world. All she knows is St. Magnus, Hogwarts, and a few harbors she's seen from her father's boat. I need to enlist you in getting her ready for the world."
"Agnes, we barely know each other," said Daphne.
"Exactly," said Agnes. "Yet I felt we had similar views on important things, children, for example, right from our first meeting. Hence this conversation, which I've been having inside my own head since Samhain. I really don't have a choice, Daphne. We have a mothering issue.
"Moira has been knitting a sweater," Agnes said. "For James. The sweaters in this part of the world have different patterns. They're like team colors. Moira's sweater has the pattern of the Turleys of St. Magnus. For a young wizard to accept a sweater with a young witch's family pattern means he is making an exclusive commitment. The wedding is a kind of confirmation of what the couple, the families and the community have long accepted. They're much too young for that, in my view, broomless flying adventures notwithstanding. But, ready or not, Agnes Turley must now face the situation. I could really use the help of a like-minded witch."
"Oh," Daphne said, shocked. "Oh."
Agnes looked at Daphne, who looked back.
"You're right, of course," Daphne said. "Oh, my. If James accepted without knowing what acceptance entailed, that could go seriously wrong. If he did understand, and turned it down because he didn't feel ready, it would break Moira's heart. Or it could."
"Not could," Agnes said. "She's got time to get over it and move on, but thole I would for her to go through that at her age."
"Shall I talk to her?" Daphne asked. "She deserves to be heard. They're thirteen. They have minds, perspectives, opinions. They just lack experience. Maybe Moira has something to say to me."
The path was wide enough for Daphne and Agnes to walk side by side. When they got back to the Turleys' Agnes filled a kettle with water and started on a fresh pot of tea.
"Moira, is it true you have your own boat?" Daphne asked. "James mentioned it one evening at dinner and I was astonished."
"Yes, I do," said Moira. "It's tied up at the jetty."
"Take Daphne down to see it, Moira," said Agnes, "I'll have tea with your colleagues and they can tell me what they think of your abilities."
Daphne and Moira left the house and walked down a graveled path toward the water. Daphne saw a small cluster of buildings near the shore. Their design reminded her of the Potters' village in Cornwall.
"Is that the town?" Daphne asked.
"Not really," said Moira. "The whole island is the Isle of St. Magnus. There isn't a proper town, as such. There are a few little businesses there. The island is all magical families so the shops have some magical function. Otherwise they wouldn't have any customers."
That observation made both of them laugh.
"Did Mum tell you about the sweater?" Moira asked, turning her head to stare into Daphne's eyes. Her face wore the same patient neutrality James had seen when they first met.
"She did," said Daphne. "Can I assure you right from the start that I am not the least bit alarmed or offended that you would think of James in that way? I have been watching him for nearly fourteen years now and were I a contemporary I would see things just as you do."
"Ah," Moira said, the one syllable nevertheless large enough to carry a little hint of surprise.
"So you haven't come to warn me off?" asked Moira.
"Not at all," said Daphne. "Your mother told me about the local custom and the sweater patterns. I can't speak for James but I'm honored, as his mother, that a young witch of your accomplishments would find him acceptable. You're saying his father and I have done a few things right."
"Here's the boat," Moira said. She pulled on a line, brought the boat to the jetty, grabbed the gunwale and worked her way down to the center. The tail of Moira's sweater pulled up and Daphne saw the knife sheath hanging from Moira's belt as she held the side close to the jetty.
"Want to get in?"
"Sure, why not?" Daphne said. "Permission to come aboard?"
"Granted," Moira said. "Well done, Daphne. I didn't know you were a Salt."
"Probably something I read in a book," Daphne said. "You may know the story, but James' father and I took our time. I studied a lot waiting for him to come to his senses. Then for some recreation I might read a book."
They sat at opposite ends of Moira's boat. Moira showed Daphne the pins where the oars seated and the arrangement for putting up a mast if the sea would tolerate sailing. Daphne's nostrils flared as she breathed in the scents of sea water, jute, and tar.
"The design is related to the longboats, they say," Moira said. "Scaled way down, for sure. They've been building them around here for eons."
Daphne smiled as she looked the length of the boat, studying Moira's rust-red hair and green eyes, her tanned face and the sweater she wore.
"Is that the Turleys' pattern?" Daphne asked, nodding.
"Yes, do you like it?"
"It's very intricate. Does it take you a long time to finish one of those?" asked Daphne.
"It can," said Moira. "How long would you like it to take?"
"James will be fifteen one year and a few weeks from right now," said Daphne. "If you wait that one year, and next summer, the two of you feel confident with the idea that the other is their intended, and you have talked it over thoroughly and understand the mutual commitment you are making, then I will have no objection. Just be sure you both want the same thing. That's the best insurance against hurt feelings."
"Zelda's always talking about you," said Moira. "Now I know why."
"Oh, it's just girls being honest with each other," Daphne said. "That always gets the best results for everyone. Should we get you back? Agnes will worry we've been blown out to sea."
"Can I owl you? Now and then?" Moira asked.
"Of course, just be sure you take Agnes into account in whatever you do," Daphne said. "I wouldn't advise citing me if you're having a disagreement over something: 'Well, I talked to Daphne and Daphne says…' That really wouldn't be right. It's obvious she dotes on you and loves to have you close. Here it is August and school is just around the corner. Keep her apprised of things at Hogwarts. I know she'll appreciate it."
Moira looked around her boat, checking the lines, making sure everything was secure. A cloud covered the sun and some mist started drifting down. Moira smiled and turned her face into the mist before leading Daphne back to land. The mist frizzed Moira's curly hair, besides putting a gloss on her red curls. Once back in the sun they stopped and looked around for the rainbow. There was a double out past the mouth of the harbor.
"One apiece," said Daphne. "Blessings on all your endeavors."
"Thank-you for coming to visit St. Magnus, Daphne, and for bringing Hermione and your mother," Moira said.
"Thank-you for being so accommodating," Daphne said. "I need to stand in the sun and get dried off."
Moira laughed.
"You need one of our sweaters," she said. "They're merino. The yarn isn't washed and bleached to death, so the oil keeps the water on the surface. Shall I start knitting?"
"Perhaps we're headed that way," Daphne said. "I wouldn't trust the runes, though. The answer would likely be much too subjective."
Back at Potter Manor, Daphne sat at her desk and wrote Agnes a thank-you note.
"Agnes," it said.
"Please accept my thanks, and that of Hermione and Mother as well, for your gracious hospitality today. Mother won't stop talking about St. Magnus. I shan't be surprised if she comes with Father on his next trip.
"Moira was wonderful. She is so wise. Honestly, Agnes, I count myself lucky to know her. We talked about the timing for the gift and I told her I would have no objection if she could put off finishing it until this time next year. If she and James are still the same and both are clear on the meaning of what they are doing, I won't stand in their way. I can generally count on James' father backing me up on these things.
You can set your own boundaries for Moira, of course. That is exclusively a Turley family matter.
Best regards,
Daphne"
Agnes' response arrived two days later.
"Daphne," Agnes began,
"All of St. Magnus seems to have seen Daphne Potter strolling the quay with Moira. The witches can't leave it alone. Please do send Kendra with your father when he comes. This place needs the excitement.
Moira is knitting, just not as quickly. She also had to pull out some of what she had done to go back and increase the size of the sweater. She is out on Mr. Turley's boat at the moment, throwing herself into fishing, I imagine. This will be her last trip before school starts. She is very good at turning off one thing to focus on another. Much better than I ever was. She will have to be done with fishing to turn her attention to her studies.
Your solution is fine with me, and with Mr. Turley. James and Moira only seem young, I believe. It should be fun watching them this year.
Best always,
Agnes"
The September first sendoff from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was boisterous, as usual. Harry, Daphne and Tracey collaborated and brought Evans and Davis for the first time. Zelda attracted quidditch players from all the houses. Several had done their research on quidditch at Hogwarts and introduced themselves to Harry and Ron Weasley. Black witches and study group faithful gravitated to Rose and Iolanthe, before moving on to introduce themselves to Tracey and Daphne.
A few Black witches took their leave of Daphne with a quick kiss of her hand, and a whispered, "Mother." Iolanthe noticed, but didn't say anything until it was time for her to board.
"Mother," she said as she pulled Daphne into a clinch. "Thank-you for everything. If you need anything at all, just owl."
"Oh, Iolanthe, please let me do for you a little longer," Daphne said.
"No, Mother," Iolanthe said. "I've been watching you since Samhain. You're going to have to accept some help."
"Your assignment is to get all Outstandings," Daphne said. "Leave the rest to me."
"Alright, for now," Iolanthe said in surrender.
She stepped back and found Daphne's right hand, then raised it to her lips.
"Thank-you, Mother," she said.